


Always

by NotMoose67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6456460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotMoose67/pseuds/NotMoose67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1929; the place is New York City. In a world of prohibition and gangsters where homosexuality was considered illegal, Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak deal with the trials tribulations of maintaining and hiding their romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trench Coats and Novels

**Author's Note:**

> "I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself." - Gregor Samsa, "The Metamorphosis" (Kafka)
> 
> "From a certain point onward there is no longer any turning back. That is the point that must be reached." - Frank Kafka
> 
> "Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly." - Frank Kafka

Dean sat up in his bed; it creaked and moaned as he shifted is weight. Sun poured in from the window behind him and the sunlight illuminated the entire room. Dean looked around his tiny apartment; it was small, dirty, moldy, and smelled musky. The apartment consisted of one room, one bathroom, and a small kitchen right next to the bathroom. Clothes were thrown about the room, many of them were laying on the ground. One thing in particular stood out to Dean: a red dress covered in sequins. That wasn't his. Dean turned over on his side and saw a woman laying on the other side of the bed. Her back was facing Dean, so all he could see was her long blonde hair. Dean didn't remember much about the night before; obviously it had gone pretty well. He stared at the woman for a few more moments, trying to grasp any memory of the events of the previous evening. Nothing. He couldn't even remember her name. Feeling quite embarrassed about the whole situation, Dean sat back up and got up from the bed. He was only wearing his boxers and socks. Dean's feet were always cold, so he always had to keep a pair of socks near by. He slowly walked across the room, trying to avoid stepping on the red dress, and snuck into the bathroom. He turned on the sink and splashed water on his face. The cold water felt good, it was enough to wake him up and bring life to his lifeless face. Dean glanced up at the mirror; he looked terrible. A 5 o'clock shadow was plastered on his face and his eyes were drooping a little. Dean let out a sigh as he peered into the mirror at the grotesque face looking back at him. A noise came from the other room, and Dean turned around to see what was happening. The woman was now standing in the room with the sheet wrapped around her. She was gorgeous, but Dean could tell it had been a rough night. Her makeup was smeared and her hair was a mess. She smiled at Dean and he flashed her a little smile. 

"Morning." Her voice was soft and a bit raspy. The woman came over to Dean and kissed him on the cheek. "Last night was fun." 

"Look, bank's closed. I, uh, I think you'd better be going…" Dean started. 

"Joanna. You really don't remember my name?"

"Guess not." said Dean as he grinned slightly, trying to cover up the awkwardness of the situation. Joanna picked up her dress and walked back to the bathroom. Dean let her in and stepped out so she could change. After a few minuets, she came out looking like she was ready for another night on the town. 

"Now, you gotta phone I can use to call a car?" She asked. 

"Yes, here." Dean said as he directed her toward the phone in the kitchen. After dialing for a car, Joanna picked up her things and left the apartment. 

Dean stood in the doorway, watching her leave to make sure she got in the car safely. He then went back to the bathroom and opened the cabinet. Dean took out his razor blade and shaving cream. He smeared the cream on his face and carefully brushed the blade across his cheeks and chin to get rid of the stubble from the night before. Dean used the blade slowly as to prevent getting any nicks from the sharp piece of metal. As he was finishing one side of his face, the phone rang. Dean set the blade on the edge of the sink and walked over to the ringing phone. 

"Hello?" Dean asked. 

"I got another job for you. Meet me at the deli in half an hour." said a husky voice on the other end. Dean hung up after receiving the message and went back to the bathroom to finish shaving. 

The man who had called Dean was his boss, Marvin Vaughn. Marvin Vaughn, leader of the Angels, was a professional criminal, a gangster. Marvin Vaughn was an intimidating little man; he had an exorbitant amount of power in New York and no one messed with Vaughn or the Angels. The Angels were Vaughn's minions, his "workers," as he called them. Dean had been an Angel for three years now, ever since he had turned eighteen. Dean had been working as a paperboy when Vaughn found him. Vaughn noticed Dean's shooting skills when he saw Dean shooting cans behind an alley. From that day on, Dean worked for Vaughn. He was one of Vaughn's "special Angels," one of the ones who "took care of people" that Vaughn didn't like. Vaughn supplied Dean with everything he needed to get the job done, he even bought the rifles. Dean certainly didn't love the job, but it was good money. Vaughn was rich and Vaughn could give Dean a lot dough for doing his will. Dean used half of the money for himself and put the other half in a savings account for his brother Sam, who was bound to need the money someday. Dean never told Sam about the new job he had acquired; he had simply moved away and tried to avoid the subject around Sam. For now, Dean had to do what Vaughn asked. It would be impossible for him to leave, anyway, Vaughn would make sure Dean stayed. 

Dean cleared his mind and continued to get ready; Vaughn always expected his Angels to look their best. After he finished shaving, Dean wiped his face with a towel and walked over to his closet. He pulled out his black suit and white button down shirt. Dean put the shirt and pulled on the black pants. He carefully buttoned the shirt and tied his tie. Dean slipped into the suit jacket and buttoned one of its buttons. He put on black dress shoes and made sure their knots were even. Dean walked back to the bathroom and smoothed out his hair with his hands. He removed his black hat from the hat rack and placed it on his head. Dean brushed the dust off of his shoulders, straightened his jacket, and walked out of the apartment. 

Dean casually walked down the stairs and outside to the front of the building. He hailed a cab and told the driver to head to Chuck's Deli. In a few short minutes, Dean had arrived at the small establishment. 

He stepped out of the car, paid the driver, and walked into the deli. The sign read "Closed," as Vaughn never wanted any interruptions. Marvin Vaughn was sitting at a back table with a few other men. All were dressed in suits. Dean removed his hat and placed it on the rack before approaching the table. Vaughn sat at the head of the table; he was a short little man with dark curly hair. He stood up as Dean approached the table and the two shook hands. Vaughn gestured for Dean to sit so Dean obeyed. 

"So, what's this job you've got for me?" Dean asked the man across from him. 

"Straight to business, I like it. One of the many reasons I keep you around, Winchester." Vaughn gave Dean a little smile as he spoke. "There's a guy who owes me big, and he hasn't paid yet. He was supposed to pay me two months ago. Get the picture?" Dean nodded. 

"Good. Here's his information. I expect you to take care of this by the end of today. Understand?" 

"Yes, sir." Dean took the piece of paper from Vaughn and got up from his seat. He opened the piece of paper and saw the name, address, and location. He folded the paper and put it in the pocket of his suit jacket. Dean walked out of the deli and started to make his way home. On the way back to the apartment, Dean thought about how he would approach this job. He came up with a plan to hide in the warehouse across from the location of the target and wait there until the time came to shoot. Dean would call Vaughn to make sure his men took care of the body and then he would leave the scene. It was a simple plan. Every job was essentially simple: wait, shoot, run. It had become so routine to Dean that he had lost some of the guilt behind shooting Vaughn's enemies. It was just another job, another thing he had to do, another kill. Besides, Dean needed the money and Vaughn always payed him well. 

When Dean came back to his home, he went straight to the trunk sitting at the edge of his bed. He opened the trunk and lifted up the metal bin to uncover the secret compartment in the bottom of the trunk. There lay all of his guns. Dean had rifles, pistols, handguns, and an assortment of knives just in case. Dean took out a rifle and his favorite handgun. He lifted up his holster and tightened it around his hips. Dean securely placed the handgun in its spot and put the rifle in its case. He slipped a knife into his suit jacket pocket and buttoned it once again. Feeling a few jitters as he usually did, Dean went over to his bedside table and poured himself a shot of whiskey. He downed the shot quickly and felt the buzz of the alcohol as it went down his throat. Dean straightened his jacket, picked up the case with the rifle, and walked out of the apartment. 

Dean made his way to the warehouse and set up shop in the top floor by a window. 

"And now, we wait." He muttered to himself as he peered out the window, awaiting the arrival of the target. After a few hours, the target finally appeared in Dean's view. He cocked the gun and positioned it in the window. Dean pulled the trigger and watched as the bullet struck the man. Dead. Dean packed up his gun and closed the window. He put his hat back on and casually waltzed down the stairs. After finding the nearest pay phone, Dean called Vaughn to tell him the deed was done. 

"Now look, I'm gonna need a car to get me outta here. And someone to take care of the body."

"You got it, kid." Vaughn's raspy voice echoed in Dean's ear. Once the car arrived, Dean hopped in and quickly closed the door. Vaughn sat in the backseat, holding an envelope. He handed the envelope to Dean and told the driver to take them back to Dean's apartment. Dean opened the envelope and saw the cash. It was more than usual, Vaughn must've really wanted this guy dead. Vaughn dropped Dean off back home and then drive away. Dean watched the car drive away and he felt empty. There was no satisfaction in what he had just done, no feeling at all. He felt a bit better having just gained a lot of money, but the money didn't seem to have a lot of meaning. Dean looked down at the envelope and sighed. He went back upstairs and carefully stowed it with the rest of the money he'd earned. 

After every job, Dean always felt a little stirred up. He needed a drink, something more than the whiskey he had sitting on the table. Dean headed back out and wandered until he found the nearest speakeasy. It was disguised as a book store, but Dean knew what was really inside. He meandered in and made his way to the basement where the bar was. 

The bar was dimly lit and only a few people were scattered around the room. It wasn't very busy on a Tuesday night. The room smelled of sweat and alcohol, a combination with which Dean was quite familiar. He walked over to the barkeep and ordered his usual drink. At the end of the bar sat another man reading a book. Dean took his drink and sat at the bar a few seats away from the man. As he sipped his drink, Dean's eyes kept wandering over to the man next to him. He was wearing a long trench coat on top of a navy blue suit. He had a mess of black hair atop his head. The man was very still, almost like a statue. Dean couldn't help but look at the man. The man noticed Dean staring and looked up. Dean immediately looked away like he hadn't been staring at the trench-coated, black-haired man. A few moments passed, and Dean found himself looking at the man again. Once more, the man noticed and stopped reading. This time he closed his book and turned towards Dean. 

"Is my reading bothering you?" The man asked. Dean could tell the man was slightly upset and maybe a little bothered. It took Dean a few seconds to respond. 

"No. Uh, no. Sorry. I was… I was just wondering what you were reading." Dean responded. Of course Dean didn't really want to know what the man was reading, he just had to make up an excuse for staring at a man for five minutes. The man smiled a little and showed Dean the cover of his book. 

"The Sun Also Rises. It's Ernest Hemingway. I think he's brilliant." The man said quietly. He looked a bit flustered. Dean smiled at the man's enthusiasm for the author. 

"I'm Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Castiel Novak."

"Hi. Sorry I bothered you about your book. I'll just let you get back to reading." Dean tried to sound smooth but instead he sounded like a complete idiot. 

"No, it's fine. It's hard to read in here anyway." said Castiel. "Everyone talks and it gets hard to focus sometimes." 

"Yeah, I bet." Dean looked at Castiel. His eyes were a bright blue, a bright, captivating blue. Dean couldn't help but stare into Castiel's eyes. Every time Dean looked into those eyes he felt nervous and comforted at the same time. There was something about this man, something different. Dean didn't quite understand what it was, but he knew there was something special about Castiel. Dean had been too entranced by Castiel's eyes and face to even realize that he was still talking. 

"I mean; books are how I find an escape from the real world. Each book is its own adventure, its own world, it's hard not to prefer reading to reality." Castiel said as he fumbled with the spine of his book. 

"Yeah," said Dean as he tried to snap out of the strange trance in which he had just been. Dean continued to look at the man. He decided that Castiel was, well, beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful. Dean felt odd in thinking so, but he knew it was true. This man was beautiful. Dean looked back down at the table, trying to convince himself he didn't feel this way about another man. He couldn't feel this way. He just couldn't. 

"I think I had better go home. I've got a dog who needs to be fed." Castiel said as he stood up. 

"Do you come here often?" Dean asked. 

"Sometimes."

"Will I see you here, say, tomorrow?"

"Maybe you will. Goodbye, Dean." Castiel whispered as he winked at Dean. He picked up his book, tapped it on the table, and walked out. Dean's gaze followed Castiel as he left, still in disbelief of what had just happened. Noticing his glass was empty, Dean asked for another drink. Dean had no idea what he was feeling or why, but he knew he needed to see Castiel again. As Dean sipped his second drink, the mysterious man in the trench coat haunted his thoughts.


	2. The Metamorphosis

Dean couldn't think about anything else. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Castiel. Castiel, the man with the beautiful blue eyes. The beautiful, blue, captivating eyes. Over his 21 years of existence, Dean had seen plenty beautiful people, but none of them were like Castiel. None of them were as utterly astounding as Castiel. The striking eyes combined with the chiseled jaw and flawless smile was an image Dean couldn't forget. Dean thought about their interaction and nothing else. It was so brief yet Dean was still totally and completely hung up on the moment. He winked at me, Dean thought to himself. Fixated on the idea of the moment, Dean had difficulty focusing on anything the rest of the night. 

Dean walked home from the speakeasy and collapsed into his bed. It had been a long, exhausting, thrilling, puzzling day. Dean hoped he could merely sleep it all off and wake up the next day being free of these feelings. 

"Goodbye, Dean." Wink. The moment flashed before Dean's eyes in a dream. Dean woke up immediately, startled and confused. He was breathing heavily and there was sweat on his forehead. Dean picked up his watch from the nightstand and looked at the time. It had only been two hours since he had gotten into bed. Dean had lasted two hours without thinking about Castiel. Two hours. Two measly hours. Dean let out an exasperated sigh. It was impossible to get the image of Castiel out of his head. All Dean could do was dwell on the moment. Every time Dean imagined it happening, his lips spread into a little smile. He couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of Castiel's smile, his eyes, his entire being. Dean surrendered to his feelings and let them overwhelm his thoughts. 

Dean stretched his arms wide and yawned. It was morning. The light from the window blinded Dean as he got up from the bed. He meandered around the room, thinking about the night before. Dean was still completely captivated by Castiel. There was nothing that could get Dean's mind off of that man. By now, Dean didn't even care; he knew he had some kind of feelings for Castiel that weren't going away. Dean wandered into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. The cold water washed away all the dirt and grime from the previous day and Dean felt renewed. He lingered in the bathroom for a moment before walking back to the bed. 

Provided that Vaughn didn't have a job for him today, Dean had absolutely nothing to do until 7:00 when he would go back to the bookstore, hoping to see Castiel again. Dean waited impatiently by the phone for a few hours. Vaughn usually called by 10:00. It was already 11:15. There had been no call yet and Dean wasn't expecting one. Vaughn was always on time, so Dean was almost positive that he had the day off. 

Sure enough, no call came in for Dean from Vaughn. There was nothing Dean had to do until 7:00. Great, Dean thought to himself, now I have to just wait around for eight more hours. Dean lay back down on his bed and drifted back to sleep. 

Several hours later, Dean woke up abruptly. He looked at his watch; it read 6:25. 

"Shit." mumbled Dean as he jumped out of bed. He rapidly perused the room for a clean suit. Dean found the best looking one and dusted it off. After throwing on the suit and a pair of shoes, Dean rushed out the door. For some reason, he felt it necessary to be on time for Castiel. He didn't even know if Castiel would be there, but if he was, Dean didn't want to be late. He walked quickly down the street until he reached the bookstore. Before entering, Dean peered into the window and ran his hands through his hair to make sure it looked all right. Dean convinced himself it looked fine, regained his composure, and walked in. On the way down to the speakeasy Dean's nervousness increased. His stomach was churning a little and Dean felt butterflies everywhere. Dean stepped down the stairs and walked though the door into the dimly lit room. There he was, sitting at the end of the bar just like the night before. Castiel was reading the same book as before with the same look of concentration and intensity. When Dean saw Castiel sitting there, he immediately felt a wave of joy overcome him. His nerves calmed and time seemed to stop. Dean approached Castiel and sat down on the stool next to him. Castiel put his book on the table and turned to Dean. 

"Hello, Dean." Castiel smiled as he greeted Dean. 

"Hello, Castiel." Dean couldn't help but smile as he said Castiel's name. Castiel looked just the same as he did last night: stunning blue eyes, endearing face, topped off with a gorgeous smile. 

"You came back." 

"I did. I… I wanted to see you again." said Dean, blushing a little as he spoke. 

"I was hoping you would; I wanted to see you too." 

"So, Castiel… can I call you Cas? It’s a hell of a lot easier." 

Cas sighed and laughed a little at the nickname. “Sure. You can call me Cas.”

Dean glanced at Cas and noticed his face light up immediately. Cas’ eyes seemed to sparkle every time he smiled, if that was even possible. He ordered two more drinks and gave one to Dean. 

"Thanks. So, you're still reading that one, are you?"

"Yeah, it's been taking me a while. Hemingway is sometimes a little hard to digest." said Cas as he took a small sip from the glass in his hand. 

"Have you ever read Kafka's 'The Metamorphosis'?" Dean asked Cas. Cas shook his head. "Oh you should, it's one of my favorites. It's a bit odd, but that's one of the reasons I like it so much." 

"What's it about?" Dean couldn't believe Cas was actually interested; no one was ever interested in hearing him yack about a book from fifteen years ago. 

"Well, okay, you've gotta let me explain the whole thing before you say anything. It's about this guy, Gregor, who wakes up one day as a huge insect. Well, it's more like a beetle-cockroach kind of thing. Anyway, so he wakes up as this giant beetle and…" Dean noticed Cas was grinning and chuckling to himself. 

"Hey, I said you had to let me finish."

"I wasn't interrupting you." Cas said, trying to defend himself. But he couldn't stop laughing. 

"Yes, but you're laughing. Laughing is worse than interrupting." 

"All right, I'm sorry. Please continue telling me about the ridiculous bug book." Cas continued to smile at Dean. 

"Okay, okay, I suppose it is a bit ridiculous. But it's about a lot more than some guy being turned into a bug. It's about isolation and fear, guilt and inadequacy. Kafka portrays the human emotions and struggles in one of the strangest ways possible, but that makes the message all the more prevalent." 

Cas stared at Dean in awe of what he had just said. 

"Sorry, I could probably talk about this book for hours. I think I've read it at least ten times." Dean laughed a little at himself as he glanced at the table. He looked back up at Cas and saw him smiling. 

"You're fine. Well, I will have to read the bug book now, I suppose. I can't resist a good portrayal of the human struggle." said Cas. 

"I… I could give you my copy. It's a bit beat up, but it works." Dean kept his eyes on Cas.

"Sure. I'd like that." 

"I'll bring it tomorrow night." Dean took a sip from his glass and placed it back on the table. He noticed Cas smirking out of the corner of his eye. "What?"

"You seem pretty confident I'm going to be here tomorrow night."

"Well, am I wrong?"

"No. You're not. I'll be here, waiting for you to bring the ridiculous bug book." Cas chuckled a little as he spoke softly. 

"All right, but you've gotta stop calling it the 'ridiculous bug book.'" 

"I will, I will. But only if it turns out to be as amazing as you've made it out to be." 

"Oh it will. It definitely will. I promise you'll like it." said Dean, trying to convince Cas that his book was worthy of being read. 

"I don't doubt I will. Considering you seem to like me, I think you've got pretty good taste." Cas' eyes lit up as he looked at Dean. The blue seemed to become brighter every time Cas smiled. Dean found himself lost in those eyes once again and it took him a moment to snap out of the trance and respond. 

"Yeah, I've got pretty good taste." Dean whispered softly, keeping his eyes locked on Cas. Cas placed his empty glass on the bar table and pushed it back to the bar tender. He signaled that he was finished for the night and picked up his book. 

"Well, I better get home and finish this one before tomorrow night. Don't want to have two plots going in my head at the same time." 

"Why not?" Dean realized it was a stupid question but it was already too late to take it back. 

"Because then they would get all mixed up. The next thing you know, it becomes one big story about a group of insects who run around fighting bulls in Paris. It gets confusing." Cas stood up and started walking toward the door. He spun around and glanced back at Dean. 

"Goodbye, Dean." Once again, Cas winked at Dean before turning away. He was so light on his feet it looked like he was dancing as he walked to the door. His gait changed and he carefully stepped up the stairs. Dean watched Cas until he couldn't see the trench-coated man any more. 

"Goodbye, Cas." Dean whispered to himself before standing up and leaving the speakeasy. 

Dean wandered back to his apartment filled with a feeling of glee. He had a skip in his step and felt as if he was walking on air. Dean couldn't believe he had seen Cas again, let alone talked to Cas again. His feelings for Cas were growing and there was nothing to be done about it. Dean couldn't contain his excitement and spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, ever thinking of Cas. 

The next morning, Dean woke up happy. That had never happened. There had never been such a great source of joy in his life that Dean had started the day happy. Before doing anything else, Dean rummaged through his shelves looking for his copy of "The Metamorphosis." After a few minutes of searching anxiously, Dean pulled out the little hardback book. 

"There you are." Dean dusted off the cover and placed the book on his nightstand. He picked up his watch and glanced at the time; it was 9:45. Dean waited for a call from Vaughn and felt a wave of relief when the call never came. 

By the time 6:45 rolled around, Dean was ready to meet Cas again. He had put on his other suit, the one he hadn't worn in a few days, and hurriedly rushed out of the building. 

As he was walking up to the bookstore, Dean was so focused on fixing his appearance that he didn't notice the man walking towards him. The other man didn't notice either, so the two collided in the middle of the sidewalk. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Dean, feeling incredibly embarrassed, moved his gaze up from the ground to apologize to the man again. Dean looked up and saw a tan trench coat. It was Cas. 

"Hi," said Cas.

"Hi. Do you always wear that coat?" 

"Yeah…" 

"It's okay; I like trench coats." 

Dean opened the door and gestured for Cas to enter first. Cas thanked him and the two stepped into the musty bookstore. Before long they were seated in their normal spots. Dean took out the book from his jacket and handed it to Cas. 

"Ah, 'The Metamorphosis.'" Cas read the title in a dramatic voice, mocking the seriousness of the book. He turned the book over and traced his hand over the spine. 

"Sorry that it's so beaten up."

"That just means it's been loved. You've clearly loved this one a lot."

"Yeah." Dean watched Cas examine the book; he took his time flipping through the pages, carefully handling the fragile book. He gently placed it on the table like it was some kind of treasure, some desired object that was worth everything. Dean admired Cas' treatment of the book; he knew the book was special to Dean and he took great care in respecting the book itself. Cas had that look of concentration and focus again, the look Dean had adored the first time he laid eyes on Cas. The two were silent until the bartender asked them for their orders. 

"I will start reading this tonight. Thank you for bringing it, by the way."

"Of course." Dean couldn't help but smile as he accepted Cas' thanks. 

Time seemed to fly by; before long Cas had to go. After Cas left, Dean remained in his seat. Cas had only been gone a few minutes and Dean already missed him. He felt alone, lost, without Cas. There was no one to talk to, no one to laugh with, and no one to smile at his awkwardness. Dean glanced around the room at the other men in the bar; they all sat alone, drinking their troubles away and mumbling nonsense. Dean felt depressed just looking at them. He didn't want to lose the happiness being with Cas had brought him so Dean decided to leave after finishing his last few sips. 

The next night, Dean returned to the bookstore. He didn't see Cas sitting at the end of the bar when he entered the room. Dean sat down next to Cas' spot and waited. Cas hadn't been late all week and Dean began to worry a little. There was absolutely no way of knowing whether or not Cas was all right. There was nothing Dean could do to check; there was no way of making sure Cas was still going to show up. Dean waited and waited. After a few drinks, Dean started to feel a bit tipsy. He lowered his head and rested it on the table. Dean lost track of time and drifted into a state between sleeping and waking. 

"I'm sorry I'm late… Dean? Dean? Dean, are you all right?" Dean heard Cas' voice and felt Cas' hand on his shoulder. Cas gently shook Dean to wake him up. Dean lifted his head up off the table and rubbed his hands over his face. He turned and squinted at Cas, trying to wake up. Dean let out a small yawn.

"Was I asleep?"

"Yeah, I think you were. Sorry I'm so late." 

Dean looked at his watch. It read 9:00.

"Whoa, you are late."

"Yeah, I know. I just, I had to finish reading this." Cas placed "The Metamorphosis" on the table in front of Dean. 

"You know; you didn't have to finish it in a day." 

"Yeah, I know. But I felt like I'd be letting you down if I didn't. So I finished it. I might have left my job early to finish it." Cas let out a muffled laugh as he looked back up at Dean. 

"What'd you think?" Dean was eager to hear Cas' opinion, but he was still stunned that Cas had devoted an entire day to reading the book. 

"It's… it's amazing. I don't even really know how to describe it. It's just like you said: a beautiful portrayal of human suffering. Oh, and Gregor, where do I even begin. Kafka had me begging for more the entire time. It's… it's perfect. I loved it." 

"I'm glad you liked it so much. Not as ridiculous as you thought it would be, right?" 

"No, it's not ridiculous at all. It's incredible. Thank you for lending it to me." Cas pushed the book over to Dean. 

"Keep it." Dean slid the book back to Cas. Cas flashed Dean a shy smile as he took the book back. 

Dean ordered them each a drink and the two began to talk. They talked about everything imaginable. Dean loved getting to know Cas. He loved hearing Cas' story; he loved hearing Cas laugh; he loved telling his story to Cas. The whole thing seemed so easy, so effortless. Talking to Cas was like talking to an old friend. Dean felt comfortable telling Cas just about anything; the only thing Dean didn't mention was his job. He knew that would drive Cas away, and Dean didn't want to risk that happening. Dean knew his life was dark and immoral at times but he didn't want to burden Cas with any of that, he never wanted Cas to worry about something like that. 

As the night continued, Dean lost track of the number of drinks he had ingested. All he knew was that he definitely felt a bit woozy. Maybe more than just a bit, more like very woozy. But somehow Dean was still completely focused on Cas. Nothing could take his mind away from the man in front of him. Finally, the bartender told Dean and Cas that it was closing time and that they had to leave. Dean paid the man for both himself and Cas, got up, and started walking toward the door. Noticing that Dean was wobbling with every step, Cas ran in front of Dean and halted him. 

"Can I walk you home? You're pretty canned. I don't anything happening to you. I'd rather not see you get hit by a car or something." Cas rested his arm on Dean's shoulder, keeping him upright. 

"Sure, thanks. Yeah, I don't think I can make it back without some help." 

Cas ushered Dean out of the bar and slowly escorted him up the stairs. They took it one step at a time. Cas kept his hand on Dean's back the whole way up, making sure Dean didn't fall down on top of him. The two made it outside and Cas asked where they were headed. Dean directed Cas towards his apartment and the two men carefully made their way down the street. Dean felt Cas' hand resting on his back for support. He glanced over at Cas and saw that Cas had been staring at him the whole time. Cas had a goofy grin on his face, Dean couldn't help but notice how Cas looked so adoringly at him. Dean knew he was drunk, but he certainly wasn't imagining this. Caught up in Cas' stare, Dean didn't see a bump in his path and stumbled over a crack in the pavement. Cas reacted immediately and caught Dean before he could fall. 

"It's okay. I'm here. I've got you." Cas spoke softly and encouragingly. 

"Thanks." 

After a few more minutes of hobbling down the street with Cas' help, Dean finally reached his building. Cas carefully walked Dean into the building and up to his apartment. Dean fumbled for the keys, found them, and unlocked the door. Cas kept his hand on Dean's back as he helped Dean into the room. 

"All right, I think I've gotta go home. Tonight was fun. Thanks for the book." Cas turned toward the door. 

"Cas, wait. Wait." Dean shuffled back to the door, reached out for Cas' arm and grabbed it. Cas turned back to Dean. 

"There's… there's something I need to tell you." Dean felt all of his emotions rising up at once, and he knew he had to say everything now or it would never be said. Cas held onto Dean's arms. He was solid and sturdy. 

"All right, but I'm going to hold you here while you say it. I don't want you falling over on me." Cas let out a slight chuckle as he supported Dean. 

Dean looked up at Cas. He looked at the beautiful man in front of him. His heart was beating faster and he felt weaker in the knees. Dean stared into Cas' blue eyes; he instantly felt better. He took a deep breath and prepared to tell Cas everything.

"Okay, Cas, I don't really know how to say all of this, but I'm gonna try my best. Cas, since the moment I saw you, I've felt something. I don't know what it means but I know it's there, Cas. I can't help it. All I know is I've got feelings for you, Cas, feelings that I know are true. I tried to deny them but I couldn't. Cas… Cas, I'm… I'm stuck on you, Cas. I'm so hopelessly, completely, and absolutely…"

It took Dean a moment to gather that the beautiful, blue-eyed man, Castiel, was kissing him. Everything had happened so suddenly that Dean had been caught completely off guard. Dean had expected Cas to stare at him blankly, or laugh in his face, or maybe even just run out of the room and never come back. He hadn’t expected this. Before Dean could even fully wrap his mind around what was happening, Cas pulled away. Completely stunned, Dean couldn’t say anything at all. There was a moment of silence, and then Cas dared to speak.

“Sorry, you were taking too long to get to the point. I thought I’d –”

Dean didn’t bother letting Cas finish his sentence. Before Cas could spit out those final words, and before Dean could really think about what he was doing, Dean leaned in and lightly pressed his lips against Cas’. To his surprise, Dean felt Cas’ lips move against his and press back in response. He let his eyes close for just a moment, just long enough to become fully aware of the kiss.

The two lingered, letting their lips remain locked for a second longer. Dean gently withdrew from Cas, but stayed so close to Cas that their bodies were practically touching. In the heat of the moment, Dean hadn’t noticed that his hand had wandered up to Cas’ waist, and it was still there, resting right above Cas’ hips. Dean also hadn’t noticed Cas place his arm on Dean’s own forearm, and he hadn’t noticed how Cas was gently gripping onto Dean’s jacket for balance. A slight smile tugged at the corner of Castiel’s mouth, and Dean felt his do the same. Dean opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out. Normally, Dean would have found this silence incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, but with Castiel, nothing seemed awkward or uncomfortable.

Seizing the moment, Cas pulled Dean closer, if that was even possible, until their lips met once again. Dean’s heart beat faster with each little movement; every time he felt Cas’ lips overlap with his in a new way, a wave of excitement washed over his body. While he was drunk and otherwise senseless, Dean sensed this kiss with every bit of his being. It was wet, a little sloppy, and perfect. Their lips fit together like two puzzle pieces, like two halves of a whole. Gradually, the kiss grew more intense as the two fell into the moment. Cas moved his hand up behind Dean’s neck and pulled slightly at Dean’s sandy brown, messy hair, a sensation that drove Dean wild. A barely audible sound of pleasure escaped Dean’s lips, and he could feel Cas’ lips turn into a smile against his own. Cas leaned back a little and ever so sweetly brushed his lips against Dean’s one last time.

"Wow." Dean muttered as he stared at Cas.

"Wow." Cas responded just as quietly as Dean. 

"I… I think that pretty much sums up what I was trying to say." Dean laughed a little. He couldn't stop smiling. 

"Yeah, I think so." 

Cas lowered his hand from Dean's shoulder and placed his hand in Dean's. Their fingers meshed together as Cas slowly walked over to the door. He released his hand from Dean's and opened the door. 

"I… uh… I think I had better get going." 

"Okay. Goodnight, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean." 

Dean quietly closed the door after Cas left. He leaned up against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He ran his hands through his hair and let out a sigh. Dean thrust his head back and leaned it against the wooden door. A smile spread wide across his face and that smile would stay there the rest of the night.


	3. Falling

Dean sat on the floor, still leaning up against the door. His heart was beating just as quickly as it had been doing before. Dean felt completely elated; he was in a state of never-ending bliss and total happiness. Butterflies danced around inside of Dean's body and he couldn't help but still feel nervous. As Dean said reminisced about the kiss he was overwhelmed by a sense of longing, a longing for Cas. The moment Cas walked out the door Dean had already started missing him. Like a flower yearning for the sun, Dean yearned for Cas. Their connection seemed so profound, so deep, so perfect. Dean's heart ached merely thinking about Cas. There was something about Cas that had captivated Dean from the beginning and Dean still couldn't understand what that was. Dean closed his eyes and the image of Cas appeared immediately; Dean envisioned Cas' eyes that sparkled every time he smiled and how he laughed with his entire body. Dean continued to think about Cas; even thought the moment had ended a while ago Dean couldn't let go of it and he never wanted to. 

Dean tried his hardest to keep the memory fresh in his mind as he attempted to make his way to bed. He stumbled over the clothes thrown about the room, still intoxicated from the alcohol. Dean realized just how canned he was; he had trouble focusing on anything and could barely walk. All that had seemed to melt away when Dean was with Cas. Being with Cas had cleared his mind; there was no doubt in Dean's mind that it had been Cas who had created the clarity in his life. It was as if Cas provided the telescope that let Dean gaze upon the awesome heavens above. Cas brought him to that place of beauty and sheer magnificence. Even thinking about Cas seemed to bring clarity to Dean; everything aligned perfectly when Dean was with Cas or even thought about him. As soon as Dean stopped pondering Cas, he fell over. Dean, feeling a bit shocked and dumbfounded, didn't quite comprehend that he had fallen over. Unable to walk in a straight line, or clearly unable to walk at all, Dean admitted defeat and curled into a ball on the ground. He pulled his sheets off the bed and wrapped them around his body. Dean rearranged the dirty clothes so that he had some kind of pillow. Laying on the ground hurt but Dean knew he wouldn't be able to stand up, making this the best option. The hardwood floor was by no means comfortable, but the more Dean thought about Cas, the less he cared about his sleeping position. Dean had a sappy smile spread across his face as he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

The loud ringing of the telephone woke Dean up and its sound pierced the quiet morning air. Dean sat straight up. The blood rushed to his head and he felt dizzy as he tried to stand. But Dean managed to get on his feet and hobble over to the phone. Still somewhat hungover from the night before, Dean had to rest his elbows on the table to keep himself from collapsing. He picked up the earpiece on the final ring and sighed into the speaker. 

"Hello?" Dean's voice was low and raspy. He felt a tickle in his throat as he spoke. 

"Winchester." Vaughn. Vaughn was on the other end. Dean looked at the time and sure enough, it was ten o'clock on the dot. 

"Vaughn."

"Where have you been the past week, huh?" Vaughn sounded somewhat annoyed. 

"Uh, I had… family stuff. My brother needed me for something since our dad left town for a few days." Dean didn't like lying to Vaughn because he knew Vaughn could easily find out the truth. 

"Huh. Well, as long as you're back now we're good." 

"Yeah, yeah we're good." 

"All right. I've got another job for you. Meet me in fifteen minutes, or else I'll give the job to Don. You don't want me to have to do that, do you?"

"No, sir. I'll be down there in fifteen." Dean gently placed the earpiece down and put the phone back. He didn't want Vaughn to give him a job today; out of any day Vaughn could give Dean a job, this was not it. Dean reluctantly suited up and gave himself a quick shave. He didn't look his best but at least he was presentable. Dean ran out the door and made his way over to the deli just in time. Before entering, Dean smoothed out his jacket and straightened his tie. As he opened the door, the familiar sound of the bell dinged. Vaughn was seated at his usual end of the table. He was wearing a blue suit and a red tie. Vaughn was staring at Dean and Dean felt the stare strike him in his heart. It was as if Vaughn knew something. Dean was almost sure that was impossible, but barely anything was impossible with Vaughn. 

"Dean. Sit." Vaughn gestured toward the seat opposite him. Dean sat. 

"I hope your brother is doing well." 

"Yes, he's much better now." Dean forced a slight smile as he looked up at Vaughn. 

"Good. You know that if I find out this story of yours isn't true, there will be hell to pay, right?" Dean nodded. The look on his face became more intense as Vaughn continued to talk. His brow was furrowed and Dean was sure he looked mildly angry. 

Vaughn stood up as he handed Dean a small piece of paper. The paper had the information of the next target written on it in neat print. Dean slowly moved his fingers over the words. The imprint of the ink on the paper felt rough against Dean's fingers. Dean glanced up at Vaughn one last time, gave him a definitive nod, and left the deli. 

As he walked back to his apartment, Dean felt the weight of his next job on his mind. He had gone from such an amazing week back into his repetitive pattern. Dean feared that this job would bring him back closer to Vaughn and would keep him from Cas. He knew that if he let it, the job would take over his life and then he would be dragged into the darkness of being an Angel once more. Dean told himself he wouldn't let that happen, that he couldn't let it happen. He had to stay strong; he had to stay strong for Cas. 

Dean tried to focus on getting the job done as quickly as possible. He rapidly gathered everything and eagerly anticipated the job being done. After finding the location of the target, Dean sat and waited impatiently. The waiting took most of the day and Dean was frustrated that he had spent the entire day doing Vaughn's deeds. 

The target appeared in Dean's view. He cocked the gun and lined it up in the window. Click. Thud. Dead. 

Dean packed everything up, called Vaughn, and had the body taken care of. As Dean took the envelope of cash from Vaughn, he once again felt the lack of emotion. He should have felt terrible for just killing a man, right? He should've felt guilty or at the bare minimum a little sorry. Dean realized the emptiness of his heart; there was no compassion, nothing. It's not like Dean felt satisfied, he merely felt annoyed. Dean slowly wandered back to his apartment and entered the room exhausted. He carefully put everything away and lay down on the bed. Dean's mind was swirling with thoughts; his thoughts were dominated by images of Cas interspersed with images of the job he had just completed. Tossing and turning, Dean remained in bed for about an hour before giving up entirely. 

Dean went to the bathroom and washed his face, hoping it would help him clear his mind. It didn't work as he had hoped. The only thing that could really clear his mind at this point was Cas. Since Cas wasn't there, Dean had to settle for trying to do it himself. Dean poured himself a small glass of whiskey and casually walked over to the window. The sun was setting and the sky had turned a violent shade of orange. The light poured in through the window and turned the entire room into a glowing spectacle. Dean took his focus away from the sunset and looked down at the street below. There were few people wandering the streets at this time as most everyone was at home with their families. Dean enjoyed people-watching, it gave him something else on which to focus his concentrated energy. As he watched the people lazily walk down the street, Dean saw a familiar shape making its way closer to him. The shape was a man with dark hair. He was walking a small dog down the street. The man was tall but not too tall. Dean immediately recognized him; it was Cas. Dean opened up the window. 

"Cas! Cas!" Dean spoke loudly but not so loud as to disturb anyone else. Cas didn't notice at all so Dean ran down the stairs and out the door. He managed to catch up to Cas fairly quickly, Cas wasn't terribly fast. 

"Cas!"

"Dean?" Cas turned as he spoke. 

"Hi." Dean was trying to catch his breath as he moved up alongside Cas. 

"Hi." Cas smiled at Dean. His face lit up the moment he looked at Dean. Dean couldn't help but smile back. Usually Dean felt nervous and excited while talking to Cas but this time he was completely at peace. All the worries Dean had seemed to disappear when he looked at Cas. 

"So, uh, what are you doing here?" 

"Oh, I just like to walk around staking people and following them home." 

Dean opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Cas let out a little giggle. Dean turned to him, thoroughly confused. 

"I'm totally joking. I'm just taking Rose for a walk." Cas gestured to the dog attached to the leash he was holding. 

"You have a strange sense of humor; you know that?" Dean couldn't help but laugh along with Cas. 

"Yeah. I know." Cas continued to smile brightly at Dean. "How did you find me?"

"You walked right by my apartment building. I… uh… I wanted to say hello." Dean blushed a little as he glanced over at Cas. Cas looked around at his surroundings. He raised his right eyebrow, questioning whether or not he actually remembered the location. 

"Oh right. This is near your apartment. I completely didn't recognize it in the daylight. Wow, I can't believe I didn't realize I was here. I must've just wandered over here mindlessly." 

"I don't mind your mindless wandering. I think I kind of like it. Especially if it brings you back to me." Dean looked to his side. Cas was staring at the ground smiling profusely. Both of them let out a soft chuckle simultaneously. 

"So, uh, what's her name?" Dean pointed at the black fluffy dog in front of them. 

"Rose."

"You said that already, didn't you? You definitely said that. I'm sorry. Wow, I feel stupid."

"It's okay. I get it; it's easy to forget something you learned less than a minute ago." Dean laughed at Cas and his ridiculous sarcastic comment. "I'm sorry, my sarcastic side is showing. Sorry. God, I feel so terrible. Please don't get offended or anything." Cas looked over at Dean with large puppy eyes. He had a slight pout; Dean couldn't help but think Cas looked absolutely adorable. Dean smirked to show Cas that everything was forgiven. He caught Cas' eye and saw a wave of relief flow over Cas. 

"So, how long have you had her?"

"About a year. I found her as a puppy in an alley and I couldn't resist. She just gave me that look. I had to take her, so I did. I found her when she needed me most and she came into my life when I needed her the most." Cas paused, collecting his thoughts. 

"My family had just decided to… uh… to, I guess, remove me. They decided that I was fine on my own and it wouldn't matter if they just went ahead and disowned me. They'd already mostly done it and me moving to New York was the final tipping point, I guess. That's when I found Rose. She needed me and I needed her. It's amazing how the unconditional love of a dog can heal wounds you never knew you had." Cas released a sigh and then turned to Dean. 

"I'm so sorry. I know how you feel. My dad left me and my brother when we were pretty young. He would check in from time to time but he was never really there. I did my best to love him and respect him but sometimes that was pretty hard. It was kind of up to me to raise my brother, Sam. And now I've left him. He's doing better on his own anyway; having me there wouldn't do anything but cause him trouble." Cas was staring intently at Dean as he spoke. 

"Wow, that conversation got real depressing. Sorry I had to mention that."

"Nah, it's all right. Suffering makes us who we are just as much as happiness does, right?" Dean spoke softly, keeping his eyes on Cas the whole time. Cas simply nodded and flashed Dean a quick smile. 

The two walked in silence for a few blocks, their shoes making soft clacks on the sidewalk. They were walking in the same time, in unison, like two perfectly aligned marionettes. The sun was almost completely gone and there was barely any light left in the sky. Stars were peeking out of the blanket of the night sky. Dean felt at peace. He felt so comfortable next to Cas, so completely relaxed. Dean let out a long, quiet sigh. He glanced over at the man next to him. 

"Hey, Cas." 

"Yeah?"

"Are you doing anything tomorrow night?" Dean felt the butterflies knock around his stomach again. 

"No. I don't believe I am. I don't usually have a lot of plans on Friday nights."

"Can I be your plans?" 

"Are you asking me to go out with you?" Cas' became excited and Dean could tell he was enjoying the moment. 

"Yes. Yes, I am. What do you say?" 

"Huh. Let me think." Cas looked up at the sky and then back at Dean. A wide grin spread across his face. 

"Of course. I would love to out with you, Dean." 

Dean felt a sense of joy take over his entire being. Knowing that Cas was as invested in their relationship as he was made Dean feel incredibly ecstatic. 

"All right, how about I pick you up around 6:00?"

"Sure. But, how will you know where to pick me up?"

"Well, that's why I'm still here. If I walk home with you now, I'll know where to meet you." Dean felt quite satisfied at his logical approach. 

"Sounds like plan. This is it, by the way." Cas gestured to the building to his right. It was a tall, narrow red brick building with a green door. There were four floors and each floor had five windows evenly spaced apart. The building was a bit dingy, things seemed to be falling off of every corner. Cas opened the door and led Dean inside. They walked up the stairs to the forth floor and ended up in front of another green door. The door read "4C." Cas unlocked the door and let Rose off the leash. She ran inside and jumped onto the bed on he other side of the room. 

"It's, well, it's nice."

"You can say it; this place is a hell hole." Cas laughed as he made fun of his own living conditions. The two entered the room and Cas closed the door. He took off his jacket and laid it on the bed. Cas walked back over to Dean. 

"So, 6:00?"

"6:00." 

"Oh, and Cas, make sure to put on your glad rags. We're gonna be puttin' on the Ritz tomorrow." Dean smiled as he turned toward the door. 

"Dean, wait. You're forgetting something." Dean spun around and looked at Cas. 

"Forgetting something? I didn't even bring anything with me…" Dean was utterly confused. Cas stepped close to Dean. 

"You're forgetting this…" Cas grabbed Dean's jacket and pulled him close. Dean leaned in until his lips reached Cas'. He placed his hands on Cas' hips and slowly dragged them towards his own. Dean held Cas' hips against his. Their lips were gently colliding, gently overlapping, gently connecting. Dean felt Cas' tongue lightly graze his and Dean followed Cas' lead. Soon the two were completely enveloped in the moment, lips crashing together passionately. Cas took his hands off of Dean's chest and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. Dean moved his hands up past Cas' hips and kept them on his back. Dean felt Cas' muscles tighten as his hands slid up and down Cas' back. Cas' lips danced against Dean's. Completely caught up in the heat of the moment, Dean gradually dipped Cas lower until he was holding Cas beneath him. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders and held on tightly to keep from slipping. Dean gripped Cas' hips to hold him there. The two separated for a moment; Dean couldn't help but stare into Cas' gorgeous eyes. They leaned together once more and their lips collided into a tender kiss. Dean slowly stood back up, bringing Cas with him. Cas kept his arms over Dean's shoulders as the kiss came to a close. The two paused for a moment. Dean lightly kissed Cas' soft lips one last time. When Dean opened his eyes he saw Cas before him, smiling brightly. Dean couldn't help but do the same. He let out a quiet, low laugh as he stared at Cas. Cas bit his bottom lip as he looked back into Dean's green eyes.

"Oh, God, don't do that." Dean smirked as he leaned in to kiss Cas again. The moment was short but sweet. Cas held Dean's cheek with his right hand. When the moment was over, Cas kept his hand there. 

"Yeah, that's what I was forgetting."

"Yeah." Cas stroked Dean's cheek with the back of his hand before moving his hand down to Dean's. The two held their hands together. Dean looked longingly at Cas. A smile spread across his face. Both let out a satisfied sigh. Dean gently released his hand from Cas'. 

"See you tomorrow night." 

"Yeah." Cas kept his voice quiet, trying not to disturb the peace the moment had created. He escorted Dean to the door of his apartment. As Dean walked out the door, Cas took Dean's hand and pulled him back. Cas softly kissed Dean on the cheek and then let him go. 

Dean left Cas' apartment and quietly left the building. Before starting to walk home, Dean took a few minutes to let the night's events sink in. 

As Dean turned back in the direction of his apartment, he looked up at the sky. The stars were out and the moon was shining brightly. Dean walked down the street with a skip in his step. He felt happy, unbelievably happy. Not just happy, but it felt like something else. Making his way home, Dean thought about his feelings for Cas. Looking at the beautiful sky above, Dean felt the tranquility of the starry sky overwhelm him. A shooting star fell across the sky. In that moment of serenity, Dean knew the star wasn't the only thing that was falling. He too was falling, falling for that man with the captivating eyes, falling for Cas.


End file.
